


flesh and bone

by orphan_account



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, connor gets turned into a teenager fuq u
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: after a cyberlife experiment gone unfortunately right, hank has to take connor in and make sure he doesn't end up accidentally killing himselfakai wanted a fic where connor gets turned into a human so i wrote it myself.





	flesh and bone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pastelskrulls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelskrulls/gifts).



> inspired by a futurama episode and my sisters awful brain

Connor wasn’t at work by the time Hank got there, which was the first sign that something was wrong. The kid had been annoyingly punctual since his first day, and it wasn’t like androids could get sick or anything… So, yeah. Not like Hank was worried. Just confused as to why his partner was missing. And Hank wasn’t even there particularly early. In fact, one might even go as far as to say he was late. But Connor, Connor was never late. Even after the android revolution when Detroit was thrown into chaos he still showed up. And he wasn't answering any of Hank’s calls. In the past sixteen hours, Hank had heard nothing from the kid, which was unusual to say the least.

And after a solid three and a half hours of restless, unfocused work, he got a phone call. In the middle of a crime scene. From an unknown number.

“Hello?” His voice was gruff, betraying his disinterest, his anger. He didn't have time for some random ass telemarketer when he had an actual job to worry about.

An overly perky voice replied, “Is this Lieutenant Hank Anderson?” He grunted an affirmative. Ok. Maybe not some random telemarketer trying to sell him some phony drugs. “I’m with CyberLife, Connor, yo- the android, he said you were his emergency contact.” Oh. That got Hank’s attention.

“Is he alright?” Worry stirred in his chest. “What happened?”

“Oh, he’s fine. He’s just agreed to some experimentation, and thought that we should inform you.” If that was meant to make Hank feel better, it sure as hell wasn’t working.

“The hell do you mean, _experimentation_?” Images flashed through his head at light speed, each one worse than the last. Connor, in pieces, scattered across the floor, stained with thirium. Dead. 

“It’s actually a fairly interesting experiment, sir. And we at CyberLife can give a guaranteed survival rate of 87%.” Which… Not fucking good enough.

“Yeah, fuck you and your experiments, I’m coming over there now.” He hung up before the CyberLife prick could continue. So, Connor was their guinea pig and it was like nothing had changed since the revolution. Shit. He pushed past the other officers, brushing off their questioning glances as he made his way to his car. He revved his engine, cursing the traffic as he crept his way downtown to CyberLife’s headquarters.

By the time he finally arrived, his lip was chewed raw and a frantic energy boiled up inside him. He walked briskly to the front desk, shoving his way to the front. “I’m Hank Anderson. My son is here.” The secretary cocked his head at Hank, tapping at his keyboard for a second before giving a slight nod.

“Just down the hall and to your left. They’re expecting you.” Hank rushed down the hall, dodging humans and androids alike throughout the corridor. He barreled into the room, and immediately slammed into a wall of people, all clamoring to get a good look at… something in the center of the room. A hand came down on Hank’s shoulder, tearing his attention from the crowd.

“Ah, you must be Mr. Anderson.” The man who had stopped him was wearing a white lab coat, because of fucking course he was. “Connor is just through here,” The prick led Hank through the thick of the crowd to the center of the room. And there was Connor, just as promised. Strapped to a machine that would do God knows what to him. The sight caused a visceral fear to rise up in Hank, his legs already moving before his mind had time to catch up.

“Connor! The fuck’s goin’ on?”

“Oh! Lieutenant! I was wondering if you would be coming or not!” Connor’s face lit up like the sun, like he didn’t even realize what was going on.

“Well, I woulda been here sooner, if you’d actually told me this was happening. I’ve been worrying about you all day, kid!” Hank’s anger overtook his fear for a moment, red hot rage boiling over, anger at Connor, at CyberLife, at himself. Mostly at CyberLife if he was being honest. For taking away the closest thing he had to a family. For leaving him in the dark about it. Yeah. Definitely at CyberLife. He lowered his voice, speaking only to Connor. “What are they doing to you, Connor?”

“It’s an experiment on reverse fossilization, Lieutenant. As time goes on, flesh and bone turn to minerals. CyberLife has found a way to reverse that effect.”

And holy shit. CyberLife figured out how to turn androids into…? “Are you telling me this shit is gonna turn you into a human?”

“Yes, if all goes well, I’ll be a human by the time this is over.”

“Jesus Christ. And if it doesn’t? What, you’ll just be dead?” Hank fixed Connor with a scrutinizing stare.

Connor shifted uncomfortably under Hank’s gaze, “That is… correct, Lieutenant. But they’re almost certain that nothing will go wrong.”

Hank shook his head, “Yeah, no. That’s not good enough. Get up, you’re coming with me.” Hank tugged at the restraints, to no avail. He turned to the man who had taken him to Connor, “Hey, can you let him out of these things?”

The CyberLife employee stepped forwards, hands out in a soothing gesture, like Hank was some wild fuckin’ animal. “Unfortunately, sir, Connor has already signed a warranty, and seeing as you have no legal authority over him, you can’t void that decision. Androids have legal autonomy now, there’s nothing you can do about that.” Yeah, this guy was a prick alright. Making it out like Hank wanted to stop Connor from going through with this because he thought he owned the kid.

“It’s not about him being an android, you pretentious ass. It’s about him risking his life for your fucking company.” A cloud came over the other man’s face.

“Sir, if you don’t restrain yourself, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Connor has agreed to this, and that’s it.” The man nodded to the woman at the control panel, ignoring Hank’s protests. The machine Connor was attached to crackled with electricity, a blinding light surrounding him. A scream erupted from Connor, and Hank felt his stomach drop.

“Connor!” He yanked at his restrainers arms, breaking free. “For chrissake, the hell is wrong with you peo-,” Hank’s words died in his throat. Connor… well, he still looked like Connor. But his clothes were a little looser, his face a little softer. His elbows jutted out at sharp angles, his limbs gangly and awkward. He looked… He looked like a teenager.

Hank exploded. “What the hell! Why is he a kid?”

“Sir, can you please calm down.” The scientists words barely registered with Hank, his brain still trying to play catch up with the situation. Connor was a kid. Connor, the hostage negotiator, the fuckin’ nonstop detective, was a child. Go figure. “Connor is a special kind of android, that’s all. Because he was a prototype, he was meant to learn as he went along, meaning his system has been developing from day one. This is merely a physical representation of how far his coding has come since he began his first mission back in August.”

Hank stepped forwards until Connor was just a hair’s breadth from him. He hated him. How soft and confused and young he was. He pulled Connor into his chest, and god he was so short too, wrapped his arms around him. “C’mon, son. We’re leaving.”

“Mr. Anderson, you can’t just take him with you. This is a huge scientific advancement. It could change the world. We need to make sure it works.”

“And you do know it works, because you turned my son into a teenager. Without telling his father, me,” He jabbed a finger at his own chest, “Until it was too late to do anything about it. Isn’t that enough for you?” Hank pulled Connor towards the exit, shoving past the crowd.

“Well, we need to make sure there aren’t any negative side effects.” Hank had reached the door. He whirled around, shoving Connor behind him, shielding him from the CyberLife bastards who wanted to keep him chained up, study him like one of their goddamn lab rats. So not happening.

“Trust me. If there are any, _any_ , ‘negative side effects’, you’ll be the first to know, ‘cause a lawsuit will be flying at you so fast, you won’t know what hit ya’.” He stormed out of the lab, Connor following hesitantly behind.

The tension in the car was thick enough to cut. Hank’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel and Connor was so hunched in on himself he looked as though he might disappear. “Ah, Lieutenant.” It was the first words Connor had said since leaving CyberLife, and Jesus H, his voice. Of course he sounded like a teenager, that’s what he was apparently. Still jarring as hell. “I’m sorry for not contacting you about the procedure. I didn’t realize you’d want to know.”

Hank sighed heavily, shook his head. “God, kid. Of course I’d wanna know. We’re family, half the reason I adopted you was so I wouldn’t be left in the dark about important medical decisions. Especially not something like this. I mean,” He rolled the car to a stop at a red light, turning his attention entirely to Connor. “You have a job to worry about. You can’t do anything as a teenager. What were you _thinking_?”

“I, uh, I didn’t realize it would result in,” He gestured at his teenage body, “This. I’m sorry.” They fell into another uncomfortable silence as the car inched forwards in traffic. Connor curled into himself, forehead pressed against the window.

“God, you’re pathetic kid.” Connor glanced over at him, the only sign of acknowledgment Hank was getting. So, looks like a teenager, acts like a teenager. God, Hank really hoped this wasn’t permanent. “Look, I’m gonna take you home with me, we’re gonna see if we can’t find some clothes that actually fit. We’ll deal with everything else later.” He smirked at the small grin that made its way onto Connors face, nudging him lightly. “I’m sure Sumo will be glad to see you. Damn dog loves you more than he loves me.”

“That sounds,” Connor’s smile had overtaken his face at the mention of Sumo, “Nice. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Hank snorted. “C’mon kid, like I’d let you brave it out there in the big scary world? You’re definitely moving in with me.” Connors head snapped up, opened his mouth to argue. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m letting you live alone. You’re sixteen.” Connor’s face went red with embarrassment and it was the funniest thing Hank had seen all day. Not that he’d had a lot to laugh at. “You’re staying with me. That’s final, son.”

*****  
Connor had relented eventually. Hank knew he would. He only seemed to ignore Hank when it put his life on the line. He wasn’t adjusting well, that much was obvious. He wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink, wouldn’t sleep. He was trying to be a human android, and it was killing him. He had been human for less than a day and he was blowing it. “Kid.” Connor turned towards him, careful not to disturb the Saint Bernard resting on his lap. “Eat this. Like it or not, you’re human now, which means you have to eat.” Hank passed the teen a protein bar and lowered himself onto the couch beside him. “Well? Go ahead.” Connor averted his eyes, distracting himself by tangling his fingers in Sumo’s fur.

“You should go to bed, Lieutenant.” The protein bar sat unopened in Connor’s palm.

“I’m not sleeping ‘til you eat that.” Connor scowled at Hank. Slowly, he fumbled with the wrapper, hands shaking as he raised it to his mouth. He finished the bar in just a few bites, scarfing it down like he had never tasted food in his life, which… Wasn’t all that far-fetched. The only thing Hank had ever seen Connor put in his mouth was blood, which was really just disgusting. “Well? You gonna accept that you’re stuck like this now, or are you gonna make me pull this same shit every night?”

“Fine. You win, Lieutenant.”

“Great. You gotta eat three times a day, you realize.”

“Well, that seems excess-,”

“It’s really not,” Hank threw an arm around Connor, squeezed his shoulder. “You’re human, you’re growing, and you need to make sure you don’t pass out from malnutrition.” Connor hummed in acknowledgment. They sat in silence for a moment, the a warm light washing over them from the hallway. Connor shifted in Hank’s embrace, leaning his head against the older man’s shoulder.

It was nice. Just Hank, his son, and their dog. “Lieutenant?”

“Hmm?” Connor paused and Hank could practically hear him rethinking whatever he wanted to say. “What’s up kid?”

“What’s the other half?” And that didn’t make any kind of sense. Other half of what?

“What?”

“In the car, you said half the reason you adopted me was for medical reasons. What, uh, what was the other half?” The kid was crying, Hank realized, and it damn near broke his heart. It had been a long, long, time since Hank had been a teenager himself, but he remembered how hard it was. Emotions everywhere, and insecurities through the roof. 

“You were already my son, Connor. I was just making it official.” He pulled Connor closer, planting a kiss on his forehead. It was so light it hardly counted, more of the suggestion of affection, but it seemed important in that moment. Connor turned into Hank’s shoulder, body shaking, and warm tears soaked into Hank’s shirt.

*****

When Hank woke up, the first thing he noticed was the weight against his chest. He looked to his left, greeted by Connor’s peaceful face, and God, Hank didn’t think he’d ever get over how young he was. The second was how sore his back was. God, if this was what Connor had to put up with if he was staying there, they might just have to buy him a new bed altogether. “Connor, wake up. Con.” Hank shook his son’s shoulder. “Hey, kid.” Connor blinked the sleep out of his eyes, stretched his arms.

“Hank? What-,”

“We fell asleep on the couch. Welcome to being human, Connor.” Hank smiled softly. “C’mon, we gotta get up. We’ve got some explainin’ to do for Fowler.” Connor blanched at that. 

“Right. Lieutenant, about my job,” He gnawed at his lip, worry painted on his face. “It’s all I have, I can’t give it up.”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it, son. Don’t worry.”

“I, ah, I don’t believe that’s how that expression goes, Lieutenant.” Hank waved him off, gesturing towards his room.

“Look, let’s get you some clothes so we can head down to the station. I think I’ve got some old clothes from the nineties, though they’re probably not the most fashion forward choices.”

Connor was already making his way to Hanks room. “It doesn’t matter what they look like, Lieutenant. Although,” He paused at the door, waiting for Hank to catch up. “I’d prefer something a little more professional if you’ve got it.” He shot a questioning glance to Hank. “Do you?”

Hank laughed. And laughed. And laughed. “Oh, kid. Nothing from the nineties, no.”

Connor sighed. “Alright then. It doesn’t matter.” It took a few minutes of searching before Hank found something that appeared to be the right size. A black button up covered in the ugliest pattern Hank had ever seen and a pair of studded jean shorts.

“God, somebody shoulda put teenage me out of my misery.” He sneered at the outfit. “Seriously, how have I not burnt this yet?” He tossed the clothes towards Connor. “You change, I’ll give you some privacy.” He stepped into the hallway.

“Lieutenant, can we go now?” Connor was wearing the outfit and it looked just as ridiculous as Hank thought it would.

He stifled his laughter, nodding at Connor. “Sure thing, let’s head out.”  
It was only eight, earlier than Hank usually woke up, and he and Connor were already on their way out the door. He was almost impressed with himself, honestly. Maybe his day wouldn’t be complete shit for once. The thought left Hank as soon as he stepped through the doors to the station. “Oh, Anderson, it’s rare to see you out bed before three o’clock. And what’s your little toy wearing? It looks like a carpet fucked a nerd.” Detective Gavin Reed was the first face to greet them as they entered, because of fucking course.

Hank growled at Reed, shouldering past him. “Back off, Reed, before I make you.”

“Yeah, whatever. Like I’m afraid of you.” Reed glared at Hank, but let it be nonetheless.

Hank tried to ignore the glances they got throughout the station as they made their way to Fowler’s office. Hank rapped the door briefly before letting himself and Connor in. “Hey, Jeffery. So, slight problem.”

Fowler raised his eyebrow, eyes flitting between Hank and Connor. “Does this have anything to do with the part where Connor looks like he rolled around in a dumpster in and H&M dumpster, circa the mid nineties?”

“Oh, yeah. Those were the only clothes that fit him.”

Fowler’s eyebrows cinched together. “Only clothes that fit him? What the hell is that supposed to mean? He’s an android. They don’t grow.”

“Yeah, you’d think. Except for the part where CyberLife is full of assholes who used Connor as a guinea pig for their fucked up experiments.”

“CyberLife did this to him?” Fowler stood from his desk, examined Connor. “How?”

“Reverse fossilization or something, I was more worried about the part where my son is suddenly sixteen years old.”

Fowler turned on Hank. “He’s sixteen? You realize what that means right?”

“Yeah, I’m not stupid, Jeffrey.” Hank rolled his eyes. “It means I have to buy him a whole new wardrobe.”

“Hank…”

“Yeah, yeah. Can’t have a sixteen year old running around crime scenes, I know.”

“If I may interject, Captain, Lieutenant. I’m perfectly capable of continuing my job. It’s merely a physical change, nothing I can’t handle.” Hank thought back to the last night, a memory of Connor sobbing into his shoulder that felt more like a dream, and yeah fuck that. No matter what he thought, or wanted to think, the experiment had been more than skin deep. Hank could vouch on that one.

“Connor, listen…”

“NO! Lieutenant, I am perfectly fine! I can perform all the same duties as I could before! Just don’t remove me from the case… Please.” His voice trailed into a whisper, face red with anger. Hank could practically see the smoke coming from his ears. The office was silent for a moment, the only sound the shaky breaths from Connor.

“Alright,” Fowler broke the silence. “Connor, you clearly aren’t ready for this.” Connor stared in shock, any arguments cut off by Fowler. “You had an emotional breakdown after five minutes in my office. You need time to adjust. Take a week off. Hell, take two. But I don’t want to see you back here again until you and Hank have agreed that you’re ready to be back.”

Connor stalked out of the room, hands balled tightly into fists. They weren’t quite out of the station when Connor burst. “I’m ready! Nothing has changed beyond my physical body!” His yells garnered attention from other officers, because Hank would have to be an idiot to think anyone in the Detroit Police Department could mind their own business. “Please, Lieutenant!”

“Look, kid. It’s shit like this that makes me know I can’t trust you with this right now. You’re emotions are crazy, because, newsflash, you’re a teen now. There has never once been an emotionally or mentally stable teen, trust me on that one.” Hank wished everybody could just keep their noses out of an argument for once. “We can talk about it at home.” Hank pushed past the crowd that had gathered, ignored the shocked faces, the murmured comments.

*****

The next week was awful. Connor, caught between sulking on the couch and pacing through the living room, Hank, still having to fight him to eat most days, to make sure Connor actually slept at night.

By the fifth day, Hank thought he had it mostly under control. Connor had stopped begging for any information on cases Hank was working, had started actually staying in the room that Hank had set up. So really, everything was going too smoothly. Something he should’ve seen coming in hindsight was the part where Connor had never once given up on a case.

On the fifth night, Hank was startled from his sleep by the sound of Sumo scratching at his door, which wouldn’t have been unusual, except for Sumo hadn’t slept in Hank’s room since Connor had started staying over. Hank pulled himself out of bed and cracked open the door. “Hey, Sumo…” He ran his fingers across Sumo’s back, small smile gracing his face. “Decided I’m your favorite again?” The door to Connor’s room was open, a dim light washing into the hall. A light breeze blew through the room, pushing the door open further. Hank stepped through the door, hand fumbling for the light switch to the left of the doorway. Connor’s window was open, which explained the breeze. And Connor wasn’t in his bed. The sheets were tucked in, neat and unslept in, and his window was open and Connor _wasn’t in his bed_. “Goddamnit!” Hank felt panic build in his chest, scanning the room for any clues as to where his son had gone. Well, besides out the fuckin’ window, apparently. Hank’s laptop sat on Connor’s desk, open to case files from work. Of course. Of course Connor couldn’t just accept a week off, couldn’t leave a sleeping dog lie, and now he was off god knows where, chasing down a goddamn serial killer alone.

Hank rushed from the room, grabbing the first jacket he saw and toeing on the nearest pair of shoes as he made his way out of the house. God. Hank was alone on the road, which he attributed to the fact that it was near midnight on a wednesday. His fingers drummed on the wheel as he pulled up to the last known sighting of the serial killer.

The killer had been going after androids, he’d cropped up only a few weeks after the revolution, striking fear into the hearts of both androids and their sympathizers. Hank and Connor had been working on the case for months, had planned out a stakeout and everything. Until CyberLife happened. Hank had completely forgotten about their plan to check out the abandoned warehouse, the suspected location of the killer. Connor wasn’t the type to forget though, teenage body and emotions be damned.

Hank wasn’t a religious man. Hadn’t stepped foot in a church since Cole’s funeral. Didn’t stop him from sending off a quick prayer, a whispered wish that he wouldn’t have to lose another son. He readied his gun and entered the warehouse. The dark was smothering, and Hank wished he had the foresight to grab a flashlight. The silence was worse, the unnerving quiet and the uncertainty of safety lurking in the shadows. And then a gunshot, and Hank had thought the silence was awful but what followed was so much worse. For a moment, the shot echoed through the warehouse, and then. The cries. And he knew it was Connor. Knew it was his son, lying somewhere on the ground bloodied and hurt and alone because he didn’t know how to ask for help and now he would pay the price if Hank didn’t get his ass into gear.

Hank stepped quietly, as fast as he dared. Behind a pile of crates, a middle aged man stood, gun in hand and shock on his face. “... You’re human.” At his feet was Connor, clutching his shoulder, all shallow breaths and quiet sniffles and tears staining his face. “I, I thought you were an android. You’re a human.” The man was distracted, lost in his own thoughts. He’d probably never hurt a human before, not like what he’d done to Connor, to androids.

Hank felt a wave of rage sweep over him. Aimed his gun. He was still unnoticed. Pulled the trigger. The man crumpled to the ground in an instant and Hank rushed to Connor.

“Lieutenant. It hurts. It hurts so much.”

And that broke Hank’s heart, how pathetic Connor sounded. “It’s okay, son. You’re gonna be okay.” He ripped at his shirt, tearing it into strips. “I’m gonna put pressure on the wound. This is gonna hurt, alright?”

As he tied off the tourniquet, another sob escaped Connor. “It hurts so bad, dad. Why does it hurt so much?” And if Hank’s heart had been broken before, it was shattered in that moment. Connor was hunched in on himself, writhing in pain, tears mixing with the blood already soaking through his shirt. “Make it stop, please, please, make it stop.”

“I would if I could, kid, I promise. You’ll be fine, though. We’re gonna get you to a hospital and they’re gonna patch you up, and you’re gonna be fine.” Hank positioned his arms beneath the teen, preparing to lift him. “I’m gonna pick you up now, okay?” Connor nodded against Hank’s chest. “Okay.” Hank cradled Connor close to himself, rubbing his back at the whimpers. He walked towards his car as fast he dared with Connor moaning at every jostle.

*****  
_“Mr. Anderson?” Hank’s head snapped up, as the doctor called his name. “I’m sorry Mr. Anderson. Cole, he.” The man shook his head. Sat a comforting hand on Hank’s shoulder, like that would bring back what he lost. “He didn’t make it.”_

_Hank’s body shook, his knees giving out beneath him. “Oh God.”_

_“We did everything we could, but his injuries were too severe. I’m so, so sorry.” Hank couldn’t concentrate on what was being said, could barely hear over the white noise that rushed through his head. Cole was gone. Sweet, innocent Cole, who only the other week had chosen their dog, who just a few hours ago had been happy and alive and_ there _. God. Hank couldn’t imagine a pain worse than what he was going through. Than to be a childless father._

*****  
“Mr. Anderson?” He pushed himself up from is chair at the call. “Follow me, sir.” And god, Hank wished he would just tell him flat out if Connor made it or not. Instead he was led down the hall, towards the residents rooms. “Connor is going to be alright, though you should probably avoid anything too strenuous.” Relief flooded Hank’s body.

“Thank you. Can I, uh, can I see him?”

“Yes, of course, he’s just through here. I’ll leave you two some privacy.”

Hank knelt beside Connor’s bed, squeezed his hand. “God, kid, don’t do that.” He rested his head against Connor’s bed. “You scared me halfway to death.”

A cough. “Sorry, Lieutenant. I’ll try to be more careful next time.”

“There better not be a ‘next time’, Con. Seriously, I want you to promise you won’t go pulling that shit anymore.” Connor shifted awkwardly. Hank sighed, “And if you can’t promise that, then at least tell me you won’t do it alone.”

“... Alright. I’ll be sure to notify you next time, Lieutenant. I promise.” Hank smiled, ruffled Connor’s hair.

“And enough with that ‘Lieutenant’ shtick. I heard you call me dad in that warehouse. No take backs.” Connor laughed. “That wasn’t a joke, son.” The younger man stared at Hank. “If you’re not comfortable calling me dad, you don’t have to, I’m not gonna force you. But... I want you to know that I’m fine with it.”

Connor stared for another second, confusion marring his face. And then… He smiled. Something shaky, but bright, sweet. “If you’re sure.”

“I wouldn’t say I was okay with it if I wasn’t. Thought you’d have figured that one out by now.”

“Okay.” He fidgeted with the blanket on his lap. “Thanks, dad.” Hank could practically feel his heart soar, such a contrast to just earlier that night, to the first time Connor had called him dad. But, god if it wasn’t the best feeling in the world. To have his son back.

**Author's Note:**

> connnor's outfit for fashion purposes
> 
> shirt:  
> https://ragstock.com/shop/black-trapper-keeper-print-woven-button-up-shirt/
> 
> shorts: although they could literally be any jorts  
> https://ragstock.com/shop/studded-levis-ripped-jean-shorts/


End file.
